


Little Talks

by Vanyela



Series: All The Small Things [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, I kinda love this, M/M, ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 11:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11735883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanyela/pseuds/Vanyela
Summary: Derek agreed to coffee... Just coffee... Now what?





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I've been sitting on this for a bit just to make sure I like it... Here you go!

4:50PM. 

 

Derek fiddled with his phone, feeling more nervous than he had at his own graduation. Why had he agreed to this? Why had he even suggested that Stiles could make the last two years up to him? This was stupid.

 

**‘This was a dumb idea. Why did I let you two talk me into this?’**

 

**‘bcuz we’re ur bffs nd we’re TIRED of the moping.’**

 

**‘^ What Isaac said.’**

 

Sometimes Derek really hated his best friends. He really, honest to god hated them. Derek thought that if they were his best friends, they would want to help him move on, right?

 

**‘Isaac just because you found your prince charming doesn’t mean I want Stiles to be mine.’**

 

**‘:O u leave Scott out of this! && dude u were so gone on him. still r.’**

 

**‘So? Doesn’t that mean you should be telling me to get over him?’**

 

**‘do u want 2?’**

 

**‘...No.’**

 

**‘kk then. shut up && make him grovel.’**

 

That made Derek roll his eyes. Ever since Isaac found his ‘true love’ he’d done nothing but try to hand out relationship advice to anyone who’d listen. He even tried setting  _ Boyd _ up. (Boyd just stared at the poor girl until she got uncomfortable and left. Derek laughed for hours after that story.)

 

4:55PM.

 

Derek picked his head up and surveyed the cafeteria before him. He’d picked a booth tucked away in a corner - just enough to give them some privacy but open enough that neither one of them could create a scene. Ideal, really, in the event that the talk did not go so well. Derek chanced another look at his cellphone, watching the minutes tick by.

 

Part of him hoped Stiles didn’t show up. That Stiles sent him another one of those texts with some stupid excuse. At least then Derek would be able to tell himself that Stiles just wasn’t right for him. That Stiles was too selfish and self-absorbed for Derek to waste his time on.

At 4:58PM, someone cleared their throat in his direction.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek looked up to see Stiles standing there, looking every bit like the awkward college student he was (non-prescription black frames and all), and holding a huge bouquet of purple hyacinths. Stiles gave Derek a small wave.

 

“Hi.”

 

“...Hi. What are those?”

 

Stiles blinked for a second, brought out of his trance-like stare at Derek. 

 

“What are what - oh! These! Yeah, um, these are for you… The flower lady said they’re good for saying ‘I’m sorry’ so I got the biggest bouquet they had. Uh, here!” he said, thrusting the parcel of flowers at Derek with a dopey grin.

 

Derek’s favorite color happened to be purple. He doubted Stiles knew that, but the soft spot in his heart gave a gentle flutter at the thought that maybe he had. Derek mentally told that part of his heart to shut up.

 

“Thanks,” Derek said, taking the bouquet and setting it down on the table. Stiles shifted from one foot to the other, stuffing his hands in his pocket as they fell into silence again.

 

“So, uh, coffee? Do you - I mean, do you want anything? I was gonna grab one since… that’s what we’re here for so can I grab one for you too? Not that I’m trying to buy your affection or anything - oh god do you think I’m trying to do that? Because I’m not, it’s just I want one and there’s no point in both of us going to get one if I can just get one for you at the same time so…” 

 

Derek raised an eyebrow as Stiles began to panic halfway through his monologue. Derek certainly had no intention of making this  _ easy  _ for Stiles but it seemed like Stiles was making it hard enough on himself already.

 

“Large black please.”

 

There was literally nothing special about the way Derek said it. No smile, no inflection, no trepidation, just a straightforward request. Somehow though, Stiles managed to look like Derek just handed him the stars. With a giant grin on his face and bouncing on the balls of his feet, Stiles headed over to the cafe counter and ordered their coffees.

 

Derek took a minute to shoot a text back to Isaac and Boyd in their group text. (Which Derek  _ hated  _ but participated in because his friends begged him. Well, Isaac begged him. Boyd didn’t say anything. As usual.)

 

**‘He’s buying me coffee and he gave me flowers.’**

 

**‘omg so kyoot! <3 <3 don’t let up on him tho.’**

 

**‘Isaac, I don’t think Derek is going to do anything. It’s just coffee.’**

 

**‘Thank you, Boyd.’**

 

Stiles practically skipped back to the table, two large styrofoam cups in hand. Derek thanked him and took his drink, placing it on the table to cool. 

 

“Stiles. You can sit down, you know. You don’t have to stand there.”

 

“Oh! Right, uh, thanks! I just wasn’t sure if, y’know, you wanted me to just get you the coffee and then go drink it… somewhere else. Which sounds stupid now that I say it out loud.” He almost tripped over himself pulling the chair out opposite Derek. 

 

Honestly, Derek wondered how he made it to adulthood in one piece.

 

“So. Uh, Derek. First, I am so sorry. Like legit sorry. The most sorry a person can be? I am it. I was an asshole during senior year and I abandoned you and that wasn’t cool and I’m sorry.” Stiles was bouncing his leg under the table. Derek could feel it shaking.

 

“I got that from the two-hundred and forty texts you sent me.”

 

Stiles winced.

 

“Yeah I’m sorry about that too. I probably should have left you alone when you didn’t answer but there were times when I was drunk and I missed you and I didn’t want you to end up thinking I’d forgotten you completely. I know it seemed like I did, but… I didn’t. I was just really dumb.”

 

“... I enjoyed reading them. Most of them. You text the same way you talk so it… wasn’t bad.”

 

Those big plush lips that Derek used to fantasize about were floundering as Stiles tried to process what Derek just said.

 

“So, I didn’t like, annoy the shit out of you? This isn’t just a ‘stop texting me asshole’ coffee?’” Stiles brought his left hand up to his mouth and started biting at the cuticle of his index finger.

 

Derek shrugged. “At first it was annoying. But then I started actually reading the texts.”

 

“Oh. Well sorry for the initial annoyance. Um.” Derek had never seen Stiles so… uncomfortable before. For once, it felt like Derek was the one holding all the cards. He bit at his bottom lip, wondering how much he really wanted to get into with Stiles right at that moment.

 

“So… How’s your girlfriend?”

 

“Girlfriend?” Stiles asked, blinking and cocking his head to the side. “What girlfriend?”

 

“That girl I saw you kissing before graduation.”

 

“Oh, Malia? She wasn’t - I mean, we don’t - I’m gay,” Stiles blurted. It was like his tongue couldn’t decide what words to form.

 

“Right… But you weren’t before…”

 

“She was a mistake. I was curious and she was giving me attention and it just kinda… happened. We went out for a few months but that was it, really. Parted on okay terms just after graduation,” he explained with a shrug.

 

Derek just didn’t get it. Stiles abandoned him - left him hanging for  _ months _ \- and his explanation was that she was a ‘mistake’. Derek was no expert on sex and relationships as he was a virgin and had never even  _ been  _ in a relationship, but he was pretty sure there was a phrase that went something like ‘bros before hoes’. Clearly Stiles didn’t live by that mantra.

 

“Okay so… Why didn’t I know about her? I thought we were friends… At least, we were friends to me,” Derek said, fidgeting with his cup a little. He was still shy and quiet and not the most emotionally open person in the world, but even he needed some closure.

 

In the blink of an eye, Stiles looked like someone beat his puppy to death in front of him. Which, okay, kind of cute but entirely unfair considering Derek was supposed to be remaining unattached at the moment.

 

“Because I was a dick. A huge, veiny, chode of a dick. I was always trying to get you involved in stuff and to meet new people but I was only thinking about myself. So when Malia started texting me and we started hanging out and dating, I just kind of… Figured you wouldn’t want to get involved? Like, you wouldn’t want to third wheel. But then it became me excluding you completely. And by the time I realized what I had done, we graduated. It was a dick move for so many reasons and on so many different levels.” He raised a hand and ran it through the hair at the back of his head. It was no longer short and tight in the buzzcut he’d kept throughout high school. Now it was messy and unkempt in that special Stiles sort of way.

 

Derek didn’t want to admit that it looked good.

 

“I’m sorry, Derek. Like, really actually sorry. I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but I am.”

 

Derek shrugged again. “I thought I made you uncomfortable. I thought you left me waiting at the library because you were asleep or something came up. It felt like I didn’t matter to you anymore and it hurt.”

 

He felt the impact of Stiles’ head against the tabletop in his bones.

 

“Derek, I’m going to cry. I’m going to cry because I am asshole who doesn’t deserve nice things and definitely does not deserve you as a friend or as anything else but I’m a selfish asshole and I still want you as a friend and everything else and I totally get if you want to hate me for the rest of forever. One hundred percent would not blame you. And neither would Laura. Or my dad. Or Scott. Or Isaac and Boyd. Or your parents. Or literally anyone.”

 

Well,  _ that  _ made Derek kind of uncomfortable… He didn’t want Stiles to cry and certainly not in public… The more attention they drew, the more attention Derek would get. Not ideal.

 

“Don’t cry. I don’t hate you.” Derek gave him a wry smile. “I tried. It didn’t work.”

 

That just made Stiles groan.

 

“I just. Is there literally anything I can do? Can we maybe start over now that we’re both in college and I’m not a hormonal douchey teenager?”

 

“I can’t forget the last four years of my life, Stiles. But…,” he started, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth, “maybe we could start hanging out again. Maybe. I mean, if you can promise not to ditch me again.”

 

Stiles’ head came up so fast Derek was worried he’d given himself whiplash.

 

“YES! Yes, uh,” Stiles cleared his throat, “that works for me. Hanging out. We can do that. Is it okay if I keep texting you? I mean, like, as friends?”

 

Derek shifted in his seat. “Yeah, that’s fine. Do you… have a class to get to or are you headed back to your dorm?”

 

“Oh! Uh. What time is it… five thirty? I don’t have anywhere to be. You?”

 

“No.”

 

Stiles cleared his throat while Derek took a long sip of his coffee. It was still hot but he wasn’t sure what to say… It was kind of awkward sitting with Stiles when their whole conversation was about how bad Stiles fucked up… But he was glad they had it. At least Stiles realized he was being beyond douchey. That made Derek feel just the tiniest better.

 

“So… Are you staying with Boyd and Isaac? I heard they’re getting an apartment next year.” 

 

“No. I have a single. I’m in Eastside. Wilbur Hall.”

 

“A single?! Dude! How did you get so lucky?!” Stiles moaned. “I’m in a double in Roble with a kid who smells simultaneously like dirty feet and sweaty balls.”

 

Derek nearly spit coffee all over the table at that description. As he choked down his mouthful, a chuckle burbled up from the back of his throat and Stiles beamed. He was proud of himself for pulling a laugh out of Derek… he’d missed the sound. He missed what Derek looked like when he smiled. He just… missed Derek.

 

“Came with my scholarship. I almost got into Crothers but I guess they had a last minute senior transfer who decided he needed the room. Since it’s technically an Upperclass house they gave it to him.” 

 

“Ugh. What house at Wilbur are you in? And if you say Okada I might have to commit ritual suicide because I wanted to get into that program  _ so bad _ .”

 

Another chuckle from Derek. “Otero. Didn’t even try for Okada.”

 

Stiles let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Oh good. I have far too much to live for at the moment to go around spilling my guts at Med Cafe.”

 

“And you’re too pretty.” Derek had absolutely no idea where that came from. Stiles nearly spit out his sugar-laden mess of a drink and Derek went bright red.  _ Probably  _ not an appropriate thing to say to someone who’d torn the still beating heart out of his chest, but it wasn’t like he said it on purpose!

 

While Stiles coughed, Derek weighed the merits of sending Isaac and Boyd an SOS text. Maybe they could come rescue him from this embarrassing disaster of a meeting. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize and run away with a shoddy excuse, Stiles wiped his mouth.

 

“Could I maybe walk you back to your dorm? Not that I have to or anything, I just want to since, y’know, friends and shit. And also my dumpster fire of a roommate may or may not be having an orgy on his side of the room and I’d rather delay exposure to that horrendous assault on my senses as long as possible.”

 

_ That _ stopped Derek’s train of thought in its tracks. He… honestly hadn’t expected Stiles to offer to walk him back. Would it be weird if he let him? Was that too much? Was it too soon to start doing regular friend things?

 

Derek would say he wasn’t sure. Miss Morrell would tell him to take a risk once in awhile, have some fun, and to remember that Stiles was just as human as Derek. (Though she did agree that he had been an absolute dickhead.)

 

“Sure.”

 

Stiles flailed about, nearly whacking his coffee to the floor in his excitement. “Cool! Awesome! Lemme just throw this out,” he said, shaking his almost empty cup, “and then we can head out.”

 

**‘He’s walking me back to my room.’**

 

**‘omg derek don’t put out on the 1st date’**

 

**‘Ha ha very funny. We’re trying to be friends.’**

 

**‘tale as old as time… true as it can be~ barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly~’**

 

**‘I told you we never should have taken him to see the live action remake, Derek.’**

 

**‘Yeah, but he gave us those sad puppy eyes… g2g, Stiles is back.’**

 

**‘USE PROTECTION’**

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles dropped Derek off at his room around 7PM. Derek hadn’t realized they’d been talking for almost two hours. When Stiles left, Derek grabbed the first clean glass he could find and filled it with water for the bouquet.

 

He had a paper due for his Intro to Phonology course and there was a quiz in Calculus I. He really should have been putting the finishing touches on his paper and studying for his quiz. (How he tested into Calc I was beyond him considering he came within three inches of failing math in high school).

 

Instead, Derek flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Before he could think about it, he pulled his phone out, thumbed for the contact listed ‘DOUCHENOZZLE’, and sent off a quick text.

 

**‘Thanks for coffee.’**

 

**‘ :D Anytime. Thanks for agreeing to hang out with me.’**

 

Derek closed out of the messaging app and opened his contacts. He needed to talk to Miss Morrell.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hello, Derek.”

 

“Hi Miss Morrell.”

 

“Derek, I’ve told you you can call me Marin. You’re not a child anymore.” He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

 

“And I’ve told  _ you  _ my parents raised me with respect. So Miss Morrell it is when I’m calling you for therapy sessions.”

 

Marin sighed. “Fair enough. How did your date with Stiles go?”

 

“It wasn’t a date. We got coffee. He gave me flowers. He apologized. I agreed to hang out with him again.” Even though his therapist couldn’t see him, Derek still shrugged. He knew she would see through him trying to minimize the impact their meeting had on him. “I… called him pretty.”

 

“It wasn’t a date but you got coffee, he gave you flowers, I assume you sat together, and you called him pretty.”

 

“I didn’t  _ mean _ to, we were talking and he made a joke about committing ritual suicide and it was just like in high school. It was easy.”

 

“Did you want it to be a date?”

 

“Yes and no,” he sighed. “I still like him. He’s still attractive. But he hurt me pretty bad. I can’t just get over that.”

 

“No, you can’t. And you shouldn’t have to. But if you want to try to get over it, I think being friends is a good start. Did you explain to him how hurtful his actions were?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you explain why they were hurtful?”

 

“No. It seemed like he knew.”

 

“I think you should explain it to him anyway. He isn’t going to understand unless you tell him. I know the idea of opening up again scares you, but you need to be able to advocate for yourself. You’re an adult now - no one’s going to stand up  _ for  _ you.”

 

“... What if I get hurt again? What if he thinks I’m too tall or don’t smile enough?”

 

“Getting hurt is part of being human and alive. And I highly doubt he cares enough about how tall or serious you look to suddenly no longer want to be friends with you. What happened in elementary and middle school happened when you were a child. When the people saying those things were children. That doesn’t mean it hurt you any less, but try to think of Stiles and everyone else on your campus as adults. Most adults don’t go around telling other adults that they can’t be friends based on looks alone.”

 

“I know, but -”

 

“No buts, Derek. This is your anxiety talking, not you. You are in control. Remember that.”

 

* * *

 

 

**‘Made it back to my room with my virtue intact.’**

 

**‘Nice. Isaac’s busy.’**

 

**‘Need to come over?’**

 

**‘No. They’re leaving soon. You okay?’**

 

**‘Yeah. I think so. Called Morrell.’**

 

**‘Good.’**

 

Sometimes Boyd was Derek’s favorite. He really only said what he had to. There was never any awkward small talk, he never tripped over his words, he just  _ got it _ . 

 

Derek stretched, slid off his bed, and got himself set up to prepare for tomorrow. One day at a time.

 

(When Derek finally settled in to go to sleep around three in the morning, there was a text waiting for him that was a few hours old.  **‘For the record, I think you’re pretty too.’** )

  
  



End file.
